


What Makes a Hero

by Spacethey



Series: stories for the soul by Tommyinnit apologists [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Afterlife, Angst, Exiled TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt/Comfort, I am going to punt c!Dream, Injured TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), L'Manberg | L'Manburg on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned Toby Smith | Tubbo, THIS IS ALL A ROLEPLAY BE NICE, TommyInnit-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Tommyinnit apologists rise up, dont ship actual people, he deserved better, i heard there was a special place, i miss l'manburg so much, i want it back so badly, no beta we die like tommyinnit, not about the actual people ya wierdos, why do the tags have their real names
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:40:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29831289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spacethey/pseuds/Spacethey
Summary: Tommyinnit lived a short, and difficult life and was given the most painful, lonely, and anticlimactic death. He was always forced to be a hero to others, why was no one a hero to him? Maybe it's because the last time he had heroes, they all betrayed him. Upon his death, Tommy has to face his past and decide his future.Did he really throw away his shot?
Relationships: Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Series: stories for the soul by Tommyinnit apologists [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2193054
Comments: 2
Kudos: 51





	What Makes a Hero

**Author's Note:**

> Authors note here! This contains spoilers from Tommy's 3/1 stream. It has themes of death, suicide, grief, mourning, and moving on! Please be advised and do not read if any of these themes bother you. Your wellbeing comes first :D
> 
> If you are still here, Enjoy!
> 
> if you are here for shipping leave, we only know found family here.

Something Tommy learned early on was that life is not fair; he didn’t expect death to be the same. 

Wilbur died to the tune of a hero gone mad. The song he sang ended with a clash of all the instruments coming together for one last big bang. His symphony ended on his terms. Wilbur chose to die that day when he begged Phil to plunge a sword through his chest.

Why wasn’t Tommy offered that same release?

Rather than die when he was ready, rather than throw himself off the ledge in exile, he was forced into his demise when he finally felt himself able to move forward.

He had a reason to live now. He had Tubbo, the dics, and was making amends with the others. Dream was in jail. He wasn’t supposed to be able to hurt Tommy anymore.

A bitter white light illuminated his surroundings. 

Why did it burn so badly?

Schlatt, his old friend, his former hero gone mad had a more poetic death than he did.

Schlatt’s death may have not been the death of a hero, but it was a fitting end.  
A heart attack he was well aware was coming gave him the chance to say his final ‘Fuck you!’ to the world. Something Tommy never got to have.

Even his old friend Mexican Dream had a better sendoff than he did.

Why was he the only one to die alone?

He wasn't truly alone in death. Though, he would have rather been. He died by the hands of Dream himself.

How did things get so messed up between them?

Tommy was stuck in jail with his f̶r̶i̶e̶n̶d̶ when he passed.

Rather than go out with a bang like his brother, a final fuck you like Schlatt, or even protecting the ones he loved like Mexican Dream; Tommy was beaten to death.

Dream punched him like the world did. He was everyone's punching bag. 

Why did the world like to beat on him oh so much

He took a deep breath (as much of a breath as you can take when you're no longer breathing) and stared at his corpse. Dream’s hysterical laughter ringing in his ears and he heard the blood-curdling screams from Sam.

Sam was his friend, why did he let this happen?

Tommy’s friends had a pattern of letting him down, he thinks. Or maybe, he was the one who always failed them. 

He didn’t want to think about how he hurt others

He thought about Tubbo in his final moments. He wondered how his best friend would be without him. He had Ranboo now, maybe that would be enough. Maybe he felt a little bit replaced.

He did, and it stung.

As long as Tubbo was safe and happy, that would be enough. 

He let himself rest. He has to have earned that peace by now. He’s fought enough wars for many lifetimes. His ghostly vessel began to lose it’s glow; he let it. Allowing himself to vanish. He was ready to leave this life behind. He wasn’t a religious person, but god did he pray that wherever his next life took him, he wouldn’t have to be the hero again.

“Tommy?”

The echoed voice caused him to pause for a moment. His translucent form stopped vanishing and returned to its ghostly appearance.

When he turned his head no one was there. Maybe he was still crazy, even death couldn’t fix him.

“Tommy” the voice echoed again.

“TommyTommyTommyTommyTommyTommyTommy” the voice chanted again and again, ringing in his ears.

Tommy felt a tug in his chest. A tug he did not want to acknowledge, yet felt like he had to follow it. He followed the echoey whispers and the grew louder and louder. The voices led him outside the prison and away from the commotion until they suddenly stopped.

The voice led him to L’Manburg. His home, the place he built with his family. The place he died for. He and Wilbur’s special place. He stood right outside the glass floor covering the crater of the ground.

Time had not been kind to anything Tommy had touched.

As he was about to take a step further, he was stopped. 

The translucent body of a ghost stood before him. 

A ghost of himself stood before him

“What the-” Tommy hesitated while examining the ghost.

It was Tommy, but so much younger. He wore a somber smile and his revolutionary uniform. His posture stood tall and proud. His face not yet covered in scars and instead were soft and round rather than the sharp and thin look they were today. 

If you took away his ghostly glow, the spirit would almost look untouched by the terrors of the world. 

Almost

The ghost’s pants were shredded near his shins. Shredded was the wrong term, they were cleanly cut by what must have been a sword.

A sword to the legs

If ghost’s could vomit, Tommy certainly would have in this moment. The ghost he was facing was the ghost of his first life. 

TommyInnit hit the ground too hard whilst trying to escape Dream

He remembers in the final control room facing Eret as he said those cursed words. He had tried to run for it and tripped. Dream had taken that chance to raise his sword and bring it down onto Tommy’s legs. Leaving him to die from blood loss. 

The ghostly figure extended his hand towards Tommy. Tommy grabbed it as the younger spirit of himself pulled him into a hug. The younger version clung to him tightly before suddenly vanishing into thin air. 

Tommy did not want to acknowledge the scars on his legs turned a red glow that showed through his pants. He did not want to acknowledge how his ghostly legs somehow felt weaker than before.

Tommy jerked his head around as he heard another whisper only to find a slightly older, yet still younger ghost of himself standing there. 

This ghost looked around the same age as the other, but didn’t attempt to smile. Tommy knew that face anywhere. The face of pure anger and distress. The face of feeling like a failure and the face of someone who had lost everything.

Oh how we wished he could tell himself back then that the dics truly aren’t everything

This ghost bore a hole through his chest. 

TommyInnit was shot by Dream

The puncture laid right where his heart is. Was? Did he still have a heart as a ghost? Was it a ghostly heart? Did it even matter?

This ghost knew the pain of betrayal and the damage war brought. Yet, he still had a burning flame in his eye. Something Tommy lost long ago.

The ghost wearing his same uniform extended a hand to Tommy like the one before him did. Similarly to the spirit before him, he went in for a hug. It was a tight hug but did not last as long as the one before. 

It was harder to ignore the red glowing heart that lay on his chest and tore through his shirt.

A scar on his legs, his chest, and his head, all from Dream. They stood out with a red glow that highlighted the marks. 

Tommy knew there would not be a third ghost to taunt him. He was already the third ghost, one who bore a scar from a bash to the head.

The third ghost of himself had been through so much. From losing his brother to both insanity and forever, to losing his friends (his best friend especially), and to when he almost left the world behind on his own terms.

It’s never my time to die, yea right

He wondered if his dad or eldest brother would miss him. How long would it be until the news of his death reached them. Would Phil feel like he failed yet another child? Would Techno regret telling him to die like a hero?

He didn’t die a hero. He died alone, tired, and afraid

Even though he questions the livings’ thoughts upon his exit, he realized that with leaving, he would get to finally rest.

Did he deserve to rest? He did.

He wondered briefly if the others would miss him enough to bring him back. They hadn’t brought Wilbur back, why would they try to revive him? He ponders on it for a moment before deciding that given the chance, he would not want to come back. He has done his time. All he can do is hope somebody will tell his story.

Though, he still wishes they would try, just so he knows that they care

His story, his legacy. Would it continue, would generations in the future remember him as a hero? 

Does he want to be remembered as a hero?

He hopes Tubbo never forgets him. He will never forget Tubbo. 

For a moment, Tommy almost felt peace. Parts of him he long tried to forget had come together again. Rather than let himself go, he took a step forward. A step towards an unknown future. He would go to finally return home.

. . . . .

Home?

He wondered for a moment what he meant by that. The thought was brief but noticeable. Why did he say he was going home? He left home behind didn't he? What did he even consider his home? His dirt shack in the mountain is his home, but he is leaving that behind.

He crossed over onto the glass floor. The moment his ghostly foot touched down onto the glass covering, it changed to a lively green.

Grass? 

The more steps Tommy took into the land, the more it repaired itself into the place it once was; L’Manburg. It was not the L’Manburg he remembered, it had short walls surrounding it (it reminded him if it’s original form) and connecting wooden houses with lanterns in the sky. The land was full of life and rays of sunlight. The entire country seemed to be giving him a hug. It welcomed him with open arms. 

Is this home?

He wanders around a bit before he runs into a familiar face. There in all his glory stood his old friend Henry. Tommy practically threw himself at his late cow. Showering him with pets and hugs. He pushed his face into Henry’s side as he tightly hugged the cow while crying. When the tears began to slow he became more aware he wasn’t alone. He saw other deceased animals around. But he felt the presence of other people. People that were familiar and those who were not, wandered around the country. For a moment he thought he saw a flash of red and green pass him by. He smiles a genuine smile for the first time in oh so long. 

“Kid?” A scratchy voice shouts from a window of a nearby house.

Tommy’s breath hitched. He recognized the voice immediately. His old idol was here, he wanted to say hello and cling onto the familiar face but can’t bring himself to move. The tears start to drip down his scarred cheeks again. The horned figure disappears from the window and in his place stands the answer he’s been searching for. 

“TOMMY!” The voice screams for him, cracking from the raw emotion behind it. The figure threw himself out the window and landed (poorly) onto the grass. “TOMMY!!” The voice called again. This time, Tommy moved. He hauled himself up and took a running start. 

“WILBUR!”

Tommy throws himself into his brother's arms the second he is close enough. Wilbur falls to the ground with a thud upon being tackled. Both are laughing as tears pour like a waterfall from their eyes. They hold each other tight as if they never plan to let go. (they don't plan to). Wilbur starts choking out apologies through the sobs. Sorry for hurting you, sorry for betraying you, sorry for leaving you. Tommy tunes them all out. He’s too happy to deal with that now. 

“Tommy when I said see you soon, I didn’t mean this soon” Wilbur says laughing through tears.

. . . . .

If Wilbur saw his brother make up with Jschlatt he didn’t intrude. If he saw him and Mexican Dream run off and terrorize the town, he pretended not to know. If he saw his brother mourn for the life that could have been, he never forced him to talk about it.  
If he watched as his little brother snuck down to the overworld to watch over his friends he never said a word. If he noticed when his brother came home crying after seeing how far his friends had come, he would comfort him rather than pry. If he felt a tug on his chest calling him back, he would ignore it. 

Wilbur once told him, “Tommy I want you to do whatever your heart says.” Tommy does not have a good track record of listening to his brother. When he felt a tug on his chest calling him back, he elected not to tell his brother. He chose to follow his heart.

He chose, without the world judging and harshly punishing him for it

With a deep breath he turned and smiled a teary smile to his confused brother

“I’m finally home Wilbur”

And he never planned to leave

. . . . .

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! First fic here, been watching the SMP since before L'Manburg got independence and I am a huge Tommyinnit apologist. Mans has had easily the biggest character development and it's so fun to pick apart his character. If you guys end up wanting more leave a comment and some ideas! I may write it if I like it!


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